Of Flea World, Cat Food And The Perfect But Elusive Plant

September 13, 1987

SANFORD — ''We could live here for a month!'' exclaimed the Phantom's companion. We had just walked down a corridor at Flea World, one of the largest flea markets in Florida, maybe in the whole U.S.A. At the moment it looked like it anyway. (Flea World is no small-town thing, even if it is in Sanford.) In about 10 seconds, we'd already seen beds, blue jeans and bananas for sale, and there was plenty more to come.

The Phantom and her companion arrived at the Flea World gates around noon the Sunday before Labor Day. They could not have picked a more appropriate time to see the throngs of sweaty wheelers and dealers hustling up and down Flea World's 100-plus acres of parking lots and covered sheds.

They tell me they have 1,200 booths at Flea World. The Phantom can't vouch for that number, but if you spend a couple of hours there, you'll feel like you saw at least that many.

The Phantom had left her purse locked in the car on purpose, taking only two $10 bills into Flea World. It's hard enough to resist temptation without carrying around the means for giving in.

We saw everything you might see if you spent a whole afternoon going through six K marts and a mall. We saw a Ninja suit, crotchless panties, Jacuzzis, corn dogs, hand-me-down Harlequin romances, Confederate flags, Harley-Davidson belts, porn videos. We could have bought insurance, a house, a haircut, a cypress clock with Jesus' face on it, ''farm-fresh produce'' and/or lawyerly advice. A guy named Crazy Charlie very nearly talked us into buying two telephone answering machines for the price of one. Another guy did talk us into buying two cassettes at $3.95 each -- a bargain, even if this salesman did pronounce Bette Midler's name ''Betty.'' The Phantom bought four cans of Science Diet cat food for $4, a coup if there ever was one. (That stuff can cost you $1.25 per can at the vet's.)

We saw air-condition units. (We also saw -- and smelled -- a lot of too- hot customers, an unbelievable percentage of whom sported tattoos. And we think whoever owns Flea World ought to buy up all the air-condition units and set them up throughout the place before an epidemic of heat stroke breaks out.)

If you are wondering, most places in Flea World will take real money, plastic cards and checks. Furthermore, some will even place the items of your choice on lay-a-way.

The main thing to remember as a Flea World customer is: If you want to buy something, better do it right this minute. Otherwise you'll never find your way back to whatever it was that you thought maybe you'd like to buy, only you wanted to think about it awhile. It'll be too late. Flea World's layout is so humongous, so Byzantine, so confusing, you'll never find that elusive object of your attentions (even if they do give you a map, which only the old-timers actually seem to have mastered).

Such was the misfortune that befell the Phantom. Upon her arrival, she had in mind that she was going to buy a plant for her living room. There were several plant dealers around the place, but only one who had a plant that caught the Phantom's fancy. She had to have just the right thing, and it couldn't cost more than $10, and it couldn't be one of those poisonous things that kills your cat. (The Phantom, see, has two cats, the same cats she bought the Science Diet food for.)

Well anyway, having once located just the right plant, the Phantom never could seem to find her way back to where she saw it. Matter of fact, she almost never found her car again, either. (There are no helpful Plutos or Dumbos on signs to help you locate your parking section.)

All things considered, it was an afternoon well spent, mainly because we didn't spend much. Where else can you buy a Betty Midler cassette, four cans of cat food, a 32-ounce cup of iced tea and four paperback books, all for less than $20, plus nearly get the plant of your choice? Shoot. It's better than the Home Shopping Network.